Wilderspool Causeway

When you wrote, you submerged metaphors
far too deep for readers to pick up
and even a fleet of interpretive submarines
foundered on the rhythm of surface waves.

Your depth-charge ruined prospects
of underwater hermeneutic archaeology:
whatever that is.

The big point, central purpose, eventual finding –
all was lost in the process of articulation.

There was a quest, a pilgrimage
like the one to Rabbi Marshak
who sat in silence in A Serious Man

after Rabbi Nachtner’s orthodontic parables
fell decidedly flat and Larry moved on.